


Living Dangerously

by thundercaya



Series: The Workplace Warzone [11]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Humor, M/M, food allergies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton brings a gift. It's not always the thought that counts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living Dangerously

"Tell me again why we're doing this?" Madison asked.

"He asked to see us," Jefferson said.

"I _know_ that," Madison said, "but why do we _care_?"

"Because I get paid to care," Jefferson said, "and if I have to suffer, so do you. Come on, let's get this over with."

Jefferson greeted Hamilton's intern, who sent them into the man's office.

"What's this about, Hamilton?" Jefferson asked without any greeting.

"Why don't you two sit down?" Hamilton offered, gesturing at two chairs across his desk.

"Why?" Madison asked. "Is this going to take long?"

Hamilton scowled. "Fine. Stand. I don't care." He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a plate of pale pastries cut into squares. He pulled off a layer of Saran wrap and placed the plate on the desk. "From my wife," he said. "She means them as a peace offering, but I make no claim on those intentions. Just the same, you should enjoy them. It's a favorite recipe of my children. Cream cheese blondies with just a touch of peanut butter."

Madison, who had been reaching for one, drew back his hand as if he'd received an electric shock. His expression hardened and so did Jefferson's. "Secretary Hamilton," Madison said, "if you mean to poison me, at least have the good sense not to tell me."

Hamilton's eyebrows knitted together. "What are you talking about?"

Jefferson leaned across the desk bringing his icy glare as close to Hamilton as he could. "The congressman is _allergic_ to peanuts."

Hamilton gaped. "I-I had no idea! I'm sorry."

"Bullshit," Madison said. "How long have you known me?"

Hamilton gestured helplessly. "If it came up before now, I honestly don't remember. Again I'm really sorry."

Jefferson turned to Madison. "James, where is your Epi Pen?"

"On my desk," Madison said, making full eye contact with Hamilton as he did so. "I _never_ would have made it."

Hamilton continued to apologize ineffectually, hands in his hair. "I'm, yeah, shit, I'm sorry. God, I just--sorry."

"Let's go, James," Jefferson said. "Before he tries to kill me, too." He picked up the plate. "I'm still taking these, though."

"Do whatever you-- Yeah, go ahead. Shit."

Jefferson would return the plate eventually, of course, but not before pretending to lose it long enough for Mrs. Hamilton to get angry at her husband.

Once they were out of the office, Jefferson put out his hand for a fistbump, pleased that they had put Hamilton off balance enough that he hadn't even called on the very legitimate defense: _well I told you what was in them, didn't I?_ Madison obliged, but his own part in the victory was of course soured by not being able to eat the damn things.

"It really is a shame," Jefferson said around a bite of blondie. "These are amazing."

"Story of my life," Madison sighed. He reached a hand into his jacket and froze.

"What's wrong?" Jefferson asked.

Madison patted each of his pockets looking more and more frantic. He reached a hand out to brace himself against the wall, breath rapid. "Thomas," he wheezed, yanking his tie loose, "it really is on my desk. I was just fucking with him, but--I don't have it! I could have died!"

"Easy, James, take it easy," Jefferson said, only not touching him because he'd touched the blondies. "I have your Epi Pen."

Madison's eyes, wide and wild, shot up at him. "You do?"

"Yes. I grabbed it off your desk for you. I'm sorry. I thought you saw me."

"Maybe," Madison said. "I can't--"

"Hey, hey, just breathe" Jefferson said.

Madison pulled in what sounded like the most difficult breath he had ever taken and let it back out again.

Jefferson switched the plate into the hand he'd used to eat blondies and used his clean hand to pull out Madison's Epi Pen. "Here, " he said, handing it over. 

Madison calmed down visibly as soon as he touched it. 

"Hey, do you guys need help?" a woman asked, approaching them.

"He's fine, thank you," Jefferson said, waving her along. "He just needs some space." Never mind how little space Jefferson himself was giving him. He knew well enough that as long as the problem wasn't him, Madison appreciated having Jefferson as a barrier.

"Thomas," Madison said, after getting his breathing more under control, "you saved my life."

"Well, no, I didn't have to," Jefferson said. "But if it had come to that, I would have, yeah."

Madison slipped the Epi Pen into his jacket and pushed off the wall, righting himself. "Let's go," he said, fixing his tie.

"Do you want me to throw these away?" 

Madison shook his head. "I want to watch you eat them."

Jefferson grinned. "I love how you live so dangerously."


End file.
